


Faster Go Faster

by gracerene



Series: Wherein Ron isn't as Straight as He Thought [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Community: weasleyjumpers, Drinking, Drunk Sex, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, Kissing, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, POV Ron Weasley, Post-Hogwarts, Self-Discovery, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 19:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: Ron is straight. Super duper straight. Always has been. But when he runs into Viktor Krum by chance some years down the line, he's forced to accept that his teenage crush on Krum wasn't just hormones, but a real thing. And it's back.





	Faster Go Faster

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to experiment with new pairings lately, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity to try out some Ron/Viktor! Thanks to Amorette & Capitu for their help with this fic, and to the mod for running the fest.

Ron's heart was the Hogwarts Express at full speed as big hands pressed his hips into the wall and insistent lips devoured his own. In the back of his mind, something small insisted that he shouldn't be here, that this was wrong, that this wasn't _him_ , but that tiny voice was drowned out by the roar of lust rushing through his blood, the squirming eagerness in his stomach as he ran his hands through too-short hair, across a too-firm chest.

This wasn't supposed to happen. 

He and Hermione had been arguing, again, and he'd just wanted to blow off some steam, to cool off a little before facing another long night on the sofa. He'd gone to the Wizarding pub down the street for a pint, fully planning to wallow in solo silence for an hour or two, but an unexpected face had thrown a wrench in his plans.

Viktor Krum, in England, sitting by himself at the bar in Ron's favourite dingy pub. To say Ron had been shocked would have been an understatement, especially when Krum had turned to him with a genuinely pleased smile. Krum _remembered_ him. Ron's insides had wriggled with some unknown emotion as Krum beckoned him over, his cheeks flushing when Krum insisted on buying him a drink.

He'd felt tongue-tied and awkward, at first, more than a little starstruck in the presence of one of the best Quidditch players in the world. Apparently Krum was in London for some kind of Quidditch expo and had just managed to escape his entourage for a bit of downtime. In a pub like this, nobody gave a flying Knut who you were. Krum flashed Ron a secret, conspiratorial smile, and Ron's entire body had gone up in flames, his heart pounding a stuttered rhythm against his rib cage.

With each subsequent beer, Ron had found himself relaxing more and more. Perhaps a little too much. In his loosened state, he had leaned just a fraction too close when Krum spoke and more than once he'd had to drag his gaze away from the curve of Krum's lips or the swell of his bicep. Ron had been overheated and restless, something stirring inside him that he hadn't felt in years—not since the last time he'd seen Krum, actually. He'd always dismissed that tangled web of feelings he felt during fourth year as admiration for Krum's skill, and probably jealousy of his talent and the easy adoration heaped upon him. It couldn't have been anything else, really. Sure, there had been some _dreams_ that'd left him breathless and sticky, dreams involving muscled thighs and lean hips, but he'd been a teenage boy, for Merlin's sake! Back then, a suggestively shaped flower was enough to get his blood pumping, and he could hardly control his what his subconscious decided to focus on, anyway. Ron was straight. He had always liked women. _Only women_.

Surely Ron couldn't be wrong about something like that, could he? No doubt he would already know by now if he wanted men the way he'd always wanted women. There'd been no signs, no indications...at least none that Ron hadn't been able to pass off as the general randiness of a teenage boy appropriately preoccupied with the notion of sex. Maybe his face had grown hot whenever the Gryffindor team had changed after one of their Quidditch matches, and sometimes, when he'd heard the muffled moans of his roommates getting off in their bunks late at night, his stomach would squirm and his own cock would fatten, but those things were totally normal, right? He'd been young and even more eager for sex back then than he was now, desperate for somebody to finally touch him.

But he wasn't a teenage boy anymore, and less than an hour back in Krum's company had been enough to do Ron's head in. He hadn't been thinking about wide hips and a nice pair of tits in Krum's captivating presence, instead focusing on Krum's hands, wondering what those callouses would feel like sliding against Ron's skin. Staring at Krum's strong profile, he'd had the strangest urge to run his fingers along the sharp edge of Krum's jaw, just to feel the rasp of Krum's stubble beneath his fingertips. There'd been something undeniably wanting in Ron's belly, something hungry and desperate that yearned to reach out and touch.

He probably wouldn't have taken such a startling realisation about his desires with such magnanimity if he'd been a little less drunk, but as it was, all he'd been able to think about was Krum and the connection humming hot and bright between them. Surely it wasn't all in his head? Ron hadn't thought he was imagining the heat in Krum's eyes as he looked at Ron over the rim of his glass, his gaze assessing and burning, searing Ron to his very core. It was that look that spelled Ron's ruin. He could have ignored the surge of want inside him if it hadn't been so obviously reciprocated. He could have walked away from this with his world still intact.

Instead, when Krum had asked silkily if he'd be interested in returning with him to his hotel room for a nightcap, Ron had agreed with a shaky swallow. His hands shook as he'd followed Krum outside, let himself be pulled close as Krum Apparated them both away. Krum smelled warm and spicy, unmistakably male, his body hard with muscle, solid and firm where they were pressed close. Ron's heart had jumped into his throat.

Krum's suite had been dark when they appeared in the spacious living area, and Ron took the opportunity to stumble away, leaning back against the nearest wall to keep himself standing, his breath already heavy in the silence of the room. With a wave of Krum's wand, the lights flickered on at half brightness. The dimmed light made the stark lines of Krum's face even more prominent, making him look fierce and imposing, every inch the ruthless Seeker that Ron so desperately admired. 

Ron realised he was hard.

There had been a brief moment, as they stared at one another in Krum's shadowed hotel room, when Ron's senses had come back to him, when he thought he'd have the strength to turn away from this. From Krum. He'd opened his mouth to make his excuses, to beg off home, back to Hermione and the cold, hard sofa with his name on it. Maybe Krum had sensed his indecision, or maybe he just hadn't wanted to wait anymore, because Ron never got a word out. Before he could speak, Krum had him pressed back up against the wall, and Ron was lost. 

His mouth opened easily beneath Krum's, the kiss slick and hot and all-consuming. Ron slid a hand through Krum's hair, let another drift along his impossibly big arms, the broad planes of his back. Krum's rough fingertips caressed the edge of Ron's jaw and his sensitive throat while his other hand slid down Ron's chest before rucking up his shirt and petting along his stomach. Ron's muscles tightened and quivered beneath the seductive petting, his erection pressing insistently against his jeans, begging for some kind of relief. It was better than flying, this boundless exhilaration as Krum's fingers teased along his waistband and the buttons of his flies, before undoing them one by one. Ron found himself moaning into Krum's mouth, desperate, yearning sounds that made Krum kiss him harder, his hand sliding up to tangle in Ron's hair. 

"Vant to touch you," Krum groaned against his mouth, fingers dancing along the edge of Ron's pants. "May I?"

He should have said no, pulled away and put a stop to this madness.

"Yeah, yes," Ron gasped out instead. "Do it."

Strong fingers, impossibly hot, wrapped around his cock. Krum's fingers were thick and rough, and he jerked Ron off with a sure grip, nothing delicate or tentative about it. It made Ron buck and writhe, made him hunger for more.

"You too," he moaned. "Want to feel you, too."

Krum grinned against his mouth and the hand in Ron's hair disappeared to fumble at Krum's belt. Ron's own hands attempted to help, but he felt off-kilter and clumsy, and Krum batted him away. Ron panted in frustration and arousal, wanting to touch Krum and helpless to manage any kind of coordination in the face of Krum's relentless grip, still tight around Ron's cock.

There was a shuffle of movement, the blissful motions ceasing just long enough for Ron to whine at the loss, before Krum was back, the thick, bare length of him nudging up against Ron's erection. Ron's gasped and pulled away from Krum's lips to look down, his entire body tightening with desire at the sight of Krum's long, ruddy prick sliding deliciously against his own. He brought a hand down to touch, marveling at the slick softness of the firm flesh, so similar and so different from how it felt to touch his own. 

"Help me press them together and move with me," Krum commanded in a low husky tone that sent an involuntary shiver down Ron's spine.

"Hmm?" Ron could barely focus on Krum's words, too captivated by the sight of Krum's dick. Merlin, how had he never realised this was something he wanted? How had he never known how incandescently hot this would be?

Krum grunted and took matters into his own hands, so to speak, demonstrating what he wanted by wrapping his large hand around them both as best he could and undulating his hips. Sparks danced behind Ron's eyelids at the glorious friction, and he copied the motion, cupping his palm around the other side and squeezing tight, bucking up against Krum with reckless abandon.

As good as it felt, it didn't take long for Ron to reach his peak, spilling hot and white across both their hands and Krum's cock. It made the glide slick and sticky, and the sight of Krum wanking himself off with Ron's come was probably the single hottest thing that had ever happened to him. Krum came with a grunt, coating his hand and Ron's groin with pearlescent droplets, and Ron melted back against the wall, his breathing laboured.

Krum leaned forward and kissed him, slow and languid, the kind of easy exploration that promised another round in short order. Ron kissed him back, his mind fuzzy with satisfaction. He could sense the buzz of guilt and shock trying to creep its way in, reminding him that this wasn't who he was, that he had a girlfriend waiting for him at home. He swatted it away like a persistent fly, knowing that he'd have to face the consequences of this night eventually, but not quite ready for reality to intrude. Not yet, at least. 

"I've got a very comfortable bed," Krum murmured, his accented voice filling Ron's ears like the best kind of music. "You should feel it for yourself."

"Yeah, okay," Ron agreed, low and eager. The possibilities for the rest of the night stretched before him, a veritable banquet of delights.

He could face reality tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> [Kudos ♥] and [Comments] are fabulous! I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://gracerene09.tumblr.com/)!


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